


Undeniable

by ThroneofMist



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Height Differences, Lots of Angst, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Simon, Penny is an icon, Secret Relationship, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Eighth Year, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-06-26 23:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15673890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroneofMist/pseuds/ThroneofMist
Summary: "Baz, come on, stop being a dick. Wake up. For Crowley's sake, Baz. Wake the fuck up!""Simon. Simon, I don't think-""Please, Baz. Don't do this. We were both meant to make it. We were gonna make it. Please...please."What I think would've happened if Simon had never gone to Baz's house for Christmas, and instead stayed at Watford.





	1. Some Like it Hot!

SIMON

My fists are still tightened as I walk out of our room. I watched Baz leave from our window, his trunk floating next to him as he rolled his wand in and out of his fingers. When he reached the gate, he turned slightly and I swear to god, he looked up at our room. I had to take a step back, because it'd felt like his grey eyes were staring into my fucking soul. He shook his head lightly and carried on out the gates, disappearing. He looked... sad. I don't think I've ever seen Baz look like that before. He's only ever had two moods before; pissed or asleep.

Whatever.

What a twat. I mean, did he think telling me that he had no feelings for Agatha would make me feel better? Make me want to be mates with him? Baz is smart, but he sure knows fuck all about relationships.

I slam the door behind me (probably a bit too hard) and cringe when I hear something inside topple over. Probably one of the books Penny and Baz have stacked everywhere. Somehow, our room's turned into a fucking library. Part of me wants to return all of them to the library, wipe the chalkboard clean and tell Baz to piss off. But I can't. And I don't. Instead, I slowly make my way to the dining hall. 

It's empty. Literally. My scuffed steps are the only sound as I walk to the table at the very front. It's the only one with food set on it. I might actually be the only one here. This is the last Christmas I'm having at Watford, and it's the first one I'm having here. I slide down into a seat and look at the plates laid out. It's a pretty feeble meal; scones (plain, not cherry, which is unfortunate), butter, jam and toast. Well, at least there's enough of it. Although, I have to admit, I don't reckon I'll enjoy sitting here and eating alone everyday. 

I only get through one scone before I'm officially creeped out. Which is strange, because I've never really felt unsafe at Watford (not even when the dragon appeared) but there's creaking and the wind is whistling against the large, old windows. Nope. 

I pile the scones and toast and jam onto of each other as I scoop them up into my arms. I carry them back to my room, nearly dropping them a couple of times. I kick the door open with my foot and walk back into it to shut it. I place the plates on my bed before I sit down, legs in a basket. Now I feel fine. In my... _our_ room. My eyes run over Baz's bed, which is uncharacteristically unmade (I don't think there's been one day where Baz hasn't made his bed) before I turn back to my food and pick up a slice of toast before I lather it with jam. As I'm eating it, my eyes keep going back to Baz's bed. Why didn't he make it? 

It's throwing me off so much that I have to put my toast down on my bed (something that Baz would not allow) and push myself off of my bed so I can make his. When I'm finished I stand back and fold my arms, frowning at my attempt. It's not as neat as it normally is; the sheet's a bit crooked and the pillows look too flat, but it's good enough. I wipe the toast crumbs off my blanket before I sit back down to eat. I feel a bit awkward just sitting here and eating so I pull out my wand and say, " _ **Scooby-Dooby-Doo where are you?**_ "and a heavy book flies into my hand from one of the Penny piles (Penny and Baz have separate piles for their books. Which I think is proper stupid, since they both scan each other's books anyway. Penny instead that it's organised. I'm pretty sure it's just messy) 

I turn the book over in my hand as I chew. Core Fundamentals of Dark Beings. Mhh. The book looks fairly new, so maybe it'll mention the vampire attack. Even though there's really no point in me reading this (I know for a fact that Penny and Baz have read all of these books already cause the one's they haven't yet, they both took home) I open it up anyway, crumbs instantly falling into the pages. I start at the start, instead of scanning for vampires specifically, because, hey, I've got the whole holiday to read.

I read for three hours before I slide the book of my lap and stretch my arms out. Fuck, how do Penny and Baz read for so long without moving? I stretch my neck as I reach over for the last scone. It's cold. I cast, **_"Some like it hot!"_** But the spell works too well and I juggle the scone from one hand to the other. I realise too late that I should probably just drop it, and hiss in pain as the scone burns me.

Fuck. I can't get anything right. I lean my head against the headboard and tilt my head to check the time on the alarm clock. Eleven. Crowley. Maybe I should try and get some sleep. I sit up and move the empty plates over to Baz's bed, hoping that some crumbs fall onto his sheet. Let him complain, the tosser. 

I lie in my bed for a while, just staring up at the ceiling. I roll onto my side, my back to Baz's side of the room and squeeze my eyes shut. That night, I dream of a woman. She has thick, blonde hair that tumbles down to her shoulders. And her eyes...her eyes look exactly like mine. The dream's weird, it's like I'm underwater - with my vision blurry and wavy. I think she's speaking, but I can't really hear what she's saying. I've had this dream before, when I was younger and didn't know anything about the World of Mages or Watford. When I used to think my parents would still come for me. I know who the woman in the dream is...and I know she's not real. She's just someone I made up when I was younger, someone I pretended was my mum.

I don't know how I came up with her, maybe I've blocked the memories out. Probably from some magazine or a model from an advert or something. But, it's weird seeing my imaginary mum again, I've not thought of her for years. When I came to Watford, and learned that magicians never give up their kids, I just started to assume that I'd never meet them. Which is fine. I've done fine all these years. I'm done. I've got Penny and Agatha and the Mage. Although, maybe I don't have Agatha anymore. Maybe I haven't had Agatha for a while now.

Ugh. Thinking about Agatha makes me think of Baz. And that makes me want to punch something. Preferably his stupid, fucking face, which isn't possible right now because he's fucking gone. He probably wants to break the truce. I mean, I'm not that much help anyway, him and Penny could probably figure it out on their own. Maybe that's why he agreed to have a truce, because he just wants Penny's help. Didn't he say that anyway? He was counting on me bringing my _smarter half._

Maybe we should just call off the truce. Yeah, that's what I'll do. When Baz comes home, I'll tell him I'm done. We're done.


	2. Make Way For The King!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're a real charmer, Baz."

BAZ

Christmas was borderline unbearable.

I mean, it was like every other Christmas I've had since mother died. Sitting tall at the table, not eating. Watching Mordelia and Morwenna and Esmerée open their presents as they squeal and giggle. Practising violin. Helping father look over newspaper articles. It was a classic Grimm Christmas. 

I'm sitting at the table in the kitchen reading and waiting for Fiona when Mordelia walks in. She's dressed in her ballet clothes; a large, billowy, light pink skirt; her dark hair up in a tight bun; pink tights; and she's holding her ballet pumps in her hands. I cock my head when she sits next from me. "Were you bad this year or something?" She asks, placing her shoes on the table. They look brand new. Maybe they are. I didn't really look at what my siblings got for Christmas. 

"What?" I ask, shutting my book. 

"You didn't get any presents from Father Christmas," she says, shuffling closer to me. Technically, I didn't. But Father and Daphne did get me a new violin bow. It's beautiful (and no doubt extremely expensive), but I've still been using my old bow. It's...natural. Like an extension of myself.

"I know," I say, looking down at Mordelia.

"So, what did you do?" I arch an eyebrow. I haven't done anything _that_ bad this year. I can't really bring myself to do anything to harm Snow, now that I've realised my greatest fucking flaw (which is saying something, because I'm a fucking vampire) I mean, I'll hex him with ease, and shoot curses and harass him. But I'd never try and kill him. Not anymore. Which probably means I'm gonna lose this war. 

"I can't tell you," I say, standing up to put the kettle on. 

"Why?" Mordelia asks. I sigh and pull out a mug from the cabinet. She's nothing but persistant. 

"Because, then you'd be pulled into the conspiracy. And then Father Christmas definitely won't bring you any presents next year." I turn just in time to see her frown. Mordelia opens her mouth to say something (no doubt to tell me how mean I am, or that's she's going to tell her mother) when Daphne walks in.

"Ready to go Mordelia?" She asks as she hunches her handbag up further onto her shoulder. Mordelia nods and slides off of her chair as she walks over to her mother, watching me warily. "Basilton," she starts. "Are you ready for school?"

I nod, smiling faintly. I am ready in the sense that my trunk is packed. In the emotional sense, no I'm not ready. I'm never ready to see Simon Snow. Especially now. Is the truce still on? I was just trying to help him. What an arse. I guess I thought that if I cleared the air, that maybe...maybe we could...

What _did_ I think would happen? That we'd be mates? That Snow would finally realise that maybe I don't hate him? That maybe I'm in fact; fucking in love with his stupid fucking face? Whatever. I'm already over this whole fucking truce thing. I don't need Snow's help to find my mother's killer. I can do it on my own. I know it'll always come down to Snow and I. We'll be the two standing opposite each other, wands drawn, ready to kill. I know we'll always be enemies. But I thought maybe we were getting to a point where we didn't want to be. 

"Did you catch your father before he left for work this morning?" Daphne asks as she brushes imaginary dust from Mordelia's shoulders. I nod and throw her a smile. She smiles back. "Okay, well. I hope you have a nice term. Study hard. And don't..." she trails off as she walks over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a kind squeeze. "Try and not worry about everything else. Your father and I and the coven will deal with the Mage." I smile and nod. Daphne's never tried to replace my mother, because she knows she never will. But I do love Daphne as much as I can, I suppose. "We love you Basilton," she smiles, kissing my forehead. "We're so glad you're safe again." She looks at me, worry painting her eyes as she pushes my hair back in the way a mother does. I nod again and Daphne nods too before she pats my shoulder and walks out of the kitchen.

"Bye Basilton, see you at Easter," Mordelia smiles at me before she follows her mother out of the room. I push my tongue into my cheek and run my hand through my hair before I pick my book up again, but I don't read any of it.

*

"I can't believe you're still attending that mad house they call a school," Fiona says, looking back at me. There's a honk and the brakes screech as she swerves. She casts, **_Make Way For The King!_** before she leans back into her seat. "Jesus Christ." Thankfully we're still on the twisting country lanes, so she doesn't kill us with her shitty driving. 

"Eyes on the road," I tell her. She scowls and turns back. If Fiona wants to talk to me, she can let me sit in the front. Or even better, she could just let me drive, since I'm eighteen, have a license, andean drive better than her. But father and Daphne don't want me alone. They won't admit it, but I know they're still anxious. When I asked them if I could drive myself, they both instantly refused. I didn't fight them. There's no point.

"You're a real charmer, Baz." 

I shrug. "I know."

She scoffs, and I can see her rolling her eyes in the mirror. Maybe this would be a good time to press her about Nicodemus. Maybe she knows who he is. She probably doesn't. But it's worth a shot. "Do you know anything about a Nicodemus?" I ask, trying my best to sound casual.

Fiona tenses. "Who?" she asks, but I can tell from her voice that she's lying. She's lying. To me.

"Nicodemus," I repeat. 

"No. Why?"

"I just heard father mention the name." It's a risk, to throw father under the bus, I know. But...just maybe it could-

"Your father? Mentioned Nicodemus? To _you_?" 

I cock my head. "No. Not to me. I just heard him on the phone."

She seems to relax slightly. "Nope. Never heard of him, must be on the coven or something. You know I don't know anyone's names, Baz." 

It's only because she's being so persistent that I drop it. She's lying to me. I can just tell. It's...hurtful. So I drop it. I fold my arms, lean back into my seat and don't mention it for the rest of the journey. I close my eyes, and at some point, I drift off, dreaming of blue eyes, blonde hair and the boy I love stabbing his sword through me.


	3. Hit The Floor!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's so angry at you. And he also thinks you're-"

SIMON

I sigh as I roll over in my bed, and pull my blanket up further over my head. Then I feel a shudder shiver through my body - like I'm being scratched by long nails. Suddenly everywhere is itchy. I shrug about under the sheets, rub my shoulder against my jaw, but it still isn't going away. I push myself up, the blanket falling over my bare chest, and itch the back of my neck. It doesn't go away.

I vaguely recognise the sensation, but I can't place my finger on what it is. Like a smell you haven't smelt since you were five and you know you know it, but you can't say what it is. I cough, which is a mistake because then the itchy feeling is in my whole body; my lungs and my throat and my heart and my nose. 

Then it hits me. 

_The Humdrum._

_It's here._

I try and get out of bed too quickly, and end up tripping over and falling, sprawled on the wooden floor. I swear and rub my aching nose as I clamber up. I grab my sword from my desk and my wand from my bedside table, tucking it into my back pocket. I sprint into the hall and jump down the stairs taking two at a time. It's too bright and it's too early and I should be asleep but The Humdrum is fucking here. Crowley, it's here.

It can't be here. That's not possible...the wards and the mage...but the mage isn't here.

Oh fucking shit.

BAZ

The one thing I didn't expect to see when I first came back to Watford was Simon Snow running across the ramparts, shirtless, his sword dangling from his hand. Snow's not a muscular kid, he's actually quite lean and slender, but he's really fucking good looking. I mean, it's not a particularly bad sight, but it's slightly worrying. 

I look around quickly, dropping the spell on my trunk so it falls to the ground with a soft thud. There's no one else around, not that I expected there to be. Today's the earliest day that people can arrive back from home, so no one ever does. No one will arrive until at least Thursday, which is in four days time.

I'm pretty sure it's a good thing no one's here to see my mouth drop open as I watch Snow disappear into the distance. Where the fuck is a shirtless Snow running off to, dangling his sword, at ten in the morning? Then dread unfurls in my gut. 

It's like a weird sort of pulling feeling - like someone's wrapped their hand around my heart and my gut and is dragging me. I groan in pain as my feet start to walk without my permission. I try and resist, digging my heels into the grass, but the urge is too overwhelming. I hiss as I double over, clutching my heart. My nails dig at my sweater. Crowley, it hurts so fucking much. Maybe if I dig hard enough I could pull my heart out; make the pain stop. I feel my pangs pop out and grunt, clutching my own neck. 

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. So, I give up. I let whatever it is pull me away, my feet slowly scuffing the grass. What. Is. Happening?

It's like my thoughts aren't my own. Like somethings worming into my mind, scratching and clawing and twisting my head. As my feet carry me towards the Wavering Woods, I just keep holding onto the thoughts of blue eyes and bronze curls and lean chests.

SIMON

The first thing I see in the Wavering Woods is not the Humdrum but is in fact Baz. 

At first I'm really confused. Why the fuck is Baz here? And then I remember I'm meant to be angry at him cause he's a snake and a wanker so I bare my sword and clench my jaw. Then I realise that Baz has fucking fangs hanging out of his mouth and that he's slowly walking towards me. Or at least he looks like he's trying to. Or maybe it looks like he's trying not to try. I try to reach for my magic, just so I know it's definitely there, and it shoots right out of me. I feel it stream from my eyes and lie in my neck and hum in my feet. I try to shove it down but it won't budge - it sticks to me, to my fingers, my chest, my hair. 

"Baz?" I ask, quietly. 

He just groans. I take a step forward and so does he. Even though it's early morning and the sun is shining, we're deep in the woods and the trees are so thick and bushy that it's practically black. He takes another ginger step forward into the light. I brush against a branch of a tree with my hand and it instantly bursts into flames. Baz flinches but he doesn't stop walking. I can see the flames reflecting in his grey eyes. 

"Baz?" I ask again.

Then he pounces.

The sword is knocked from my hand by the force (not that I'd use the sword on Baz anyway, but still. It's a reassurance. One that I don't have anymore.)

We roll around on the ground for a minute and I just keep my hand planted on Baz's face, keeping those damn  _fangs_ away from my neck. I really don't want to die at Baz's hands. He snarls and swipes at my face with his fingers. I manage to dodge, but he still catches my cheek. I hiss and trace the graze with my own fingers. Baz's a lot stronger than me and it takes all of my strength to keep him up. My arms keep threatening to buckle and my stomach feels like it's going to cave in. He won't look me in the eye and it doesn't seem like he's breathing. I try to navigate us away from the flaming tree - I can't have Baz bursting into fire. And I know he's flammable, even if he won't admit it.

I have to move my face away, smearing mud all over my left cheek, because Baz's mouth is open and he's trying to fucking tear my skin off of me. He snarls and goes to swipe me again, this time his fingers scratching my chest. Then, for the first time, I realise that I'm not wearing a shirt and it's fucking freezing.

"Baz!" I shout. "What the fuck are you doing?" As soon as the words slip from my mouth, Baz's eyes lock onto mine; blue furiously crashing against grey. Then he just stops. He stays above me, two strong arms either side of my head. I never noticed how muscular Baz's arms were. Of fucking course they are. What an dickhead. Then I realise that he's _actually_ trying to kill me and I should stop thinking about his arms.

I'm about to try and just shove him off me when there's a laugh. We both turn our heads to the side to see where it's coming from and my heart stops. The Humdrum is sitting in the burning tree, his legs...my legs...dangling off the branch as he rolls that red ball in his hand. "Hello," he says, cocking his head at me.

"You can talk," I say but it comes out as a question. He just grins and shrugs before he shoves the ball into his pockets.

"I can do so much more now. I've been practising," he says it the same way way a kid would tell their parents they've finally practised their piano. I just stare at him.

"Why do you look like me?" I ask, cocking my own head. I try to move, but Baz has me pinned down. A small snarl rips from his mouth, but he doesn't look at me, he's still watching The Humdrum. 

"I wouldn't push him," The Humdrum says, avoiding my question as he jumps from the tree. I only then realise that maybe Baz hasn't just turned into a fucking insane killer but that maybe The Humdrum is controlling him. Somehow. 

I try and move again, shuffling backwards, but Baz just stares down at me; his eyes dilated and black. I look back at The Humdrum and freeze when I see him walking over to us. He places his hand on Baz's back and clenches his jaw. I'm expecting Baz to literally murder me or worse, bite me an make me be a vampire with him forever and ever, but he just starts shaking his head. It gets more forceful and his head hangs, his long hair falling in his face. "Baz," I whisper, but he doesn't hear me. I look over at The Humdrum, who just sighs dramatically.

"I thought he would be more fun, but he's so strong. He's not doing everything I say," he says, looking at Baz shaking his head. "He has so many thoughts. So many angry thoughts. So many dark and sinister thoughts," The Humdrum looks at me, smiling. "about us. Mostly about you though." I shudder and look back at  Baz's face above me. He's still shaking his head. "So many thoughts about you Simon Snow. I didn't think someone could take up so much of another person's head." My throat bobs. "He's so angry at you. And he also thinks you're-"

Baz cuts The Humdrum off by groaning in what sounds like pain as he arches his back. The Humdrum narrows his eyes at Baz, as if he's annoyed that he interrupted him by barking in pain. The Humdrum just clicks his fingers and Baz kinda just falls onto me, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. What the actual fuck?

"Baz," I ask tentatively ask. "Baz. Baz, come on." He won't move, he's just lying on my chest. "Put him back!" I demand. The Humdrum just shrugs before he pulls the ball out again and tosses it over to me. 

"You can keep it," he says. "I have loads already." Then he turns.

"You can't just leave! Put him back!" I shout as I stand up, gently lowering Baz onto the ground. "Fight me, you coward!" I yell, picking up the discarded sword. As he walks away I pull my wand from my back pocket and start screaming spells. _**"Bend over backwards!**_ ** _Hit the floor! Head over heels!"_** But he just keeps walking, the spells just bouncing off of him. As he walks away, he looks at me form over his shoulder and grins.

"He'll be fine," he says, rolling his eyes. What a little dickhead. "For the time being anyway. You both know how this ends. Both of you don't get to survive this. This'll end in flames."


	4. Back Off!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Some of us have to be the villains!”

BAZ

When I wake up I can't remember where I am. I can't remember who I am. But when I open my eyes and see Snow sitting with his back to me, running that red ball over his fingers, it all comes flooding back. I'm lying onto of my bed, fully clothed, in our room. I push myself up and groan lightly, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. Snow doesn't turn around. He's sitting on his bed, knees in a basket. He's put a jumper on but he looks like shit. His bronze curls are a fucking disaster and the back of his neck has ash on it.

I roll my eyes before I ask loudly, "What the fuck is going on?"

That catches his attention. He turns, his face a cast of indifference. "You're awake," he say - as if I _shouldn't_ be awake. As if he's surprised. It causes a tendril of anxiety to unfurl in my gut. Snow never really sounds surprised. He's an idiot, and he defiantly should sound surprised at least fifty percent of the time, but his blunt bravery leads him through life. Even when fucking dragons turn up, he doesn't ever look surprised. He just always looks determined.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I question, baring my teeth. 

He shrugs and drops the ball onto his bed. "I thought you were dead." He says it too nonchalantly, and it makes my breathing hitch. I've had enough of nearly dying. I'd rather all the people trying to kill me would just try harder. I mean, I'm practically already dead. I know that I'm an incredible mage, but the people trying to kill me aren't just mages. How hard is it to kill an eighteen-year-old?

"You thought. I was. _Dead_?" I repeat slowly, narrowing my eyes at him. 

"I couldn't tell if you were breathing," he tells me. I shut my eyes and lean my head against the wall, running a hand down the side of my face. My face feels cold. So does my hand. A burst of self-hate fireworks through me. I hate always feeling cold. Hate always feeling empty and hungry and inhuman. Hate always having to look to Simon fucking Snow to find some sense of morality. Hate feeling love for Snow. I hate that I'm here and my mum's not. 

When I open my eyes Snow's staring at me. "The humdrum was here," he whispers, as if he's fighting every instinct by telling me. 

"It was here? Did you kill it?" I ask quickly. He pushes his tongue into his cheek before he shakes his head. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I hiss, sitting up straighter and swinging my legs around so they're hanging off of the bed.

"I was preoccupied!" he protests, throwing his arms about. 

"With what? What was more important than killing the thing that's trying to fucking kill you? Trying to kill all of us? You are an idiot, Snow," I shout as I stand up, wishing very hard that the Anathema didn't exist so I could fucking kill him.

"You!" he shouts as he also stands up, pointing an accusing finger at me. I freeze. Me? What is he talking about? "You were trying to fucking kill me! The Humdrum took control of you." I clench my jaw. That explains why I can't remember what happened. "You were trying to bite me, Baz!" he shouts. "I knew you were a fucking vampire. I've known it this whole fucking time and no one believed me. But you are! And you tried to fucking. Bite. Me."

My throat bobs. I tighten my fists. I let a low snarl rip from my mouth. It makes Snow's face bleach. "Say it again," I say coldly. "I fucking. Dare. You." I take a step closer. I don't even give a fuck if I'm expelled from Watford. I'm gonna kill him.

"You're a vampire," he says, albeit a little quieter than before. His blue eyes are sparkling and his jaw is clenched and he's staring at me like he hates me. I know he hates me. I know he's hated me this whole time. But...at least I could pretend he didn't. I can't ignore it when he's glaring at me with pure and true hate and disgust in his beautiful, stupid, idiotic eyes.

"How dare you accuse me of being a dead fucking monster!" I shout, shaking my head furiously. I tighten my fists and I don’t even realise that my had is close to his jaw before he casts, “ _ **Back Off**_!” and My hand flies down to my side. I hadn’t even realised that he had his wand out. "I can’t believe you would do that! My father is on the _coven_. I can't believe-"

"I saw your _fangs_!" he cuts me off. "You have actual, literal, _fucking lethal fangs_!" I'm shaking. He's shaking. We're both glaring at each other. "You tried to kill me!"

"Stop saying that!" I shout, because there's no way I would have tried to kill Snow. Even if I wasn't in my own mind.

"You. Tried. To. Kill. Me!" he shouts accusingly.

Suddenly, I don't see Snow anymore. I just see someone else that's scared of me. And I can't have Snow hating me because of this. So I just tell myself, fuck it. It's not like I can deny it. It's not like he'd believe me if I tried to deny it. So I admit it.

"I didn't choose for this!" I shout back. "Did you think I asked for this? You think I want this? Not everyone can be as perfect as you, Simon Snow. Not everyone can be the chosen one. Some of us have to be the villains! We don’t get to pick, okay?”

He doesn't shout back, just watches me. His face falls slightly. I sigh lightly and drop back down onto the bed, leaning my head against the wall. Fuck. This is all so fucked. 

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes; me sitting on the bed, carefully watching Snow, and Snow falling onto his back on his own bed. He spreads out on the bed, his arm dangling off the side.

I bite my cheek as I watch him. I don’t even care if he notices. I’ve already lost everything. He rakes his long fingers through his bronze curls, blowing from his mouth. I guess neither of us have it in us to argue anymore. Maybe he should just kill me now and be done with it. It would make everything easier.

“They’re pretty cool,” Snow says quietly, breaking the still air. I sit up straighter and arch an eyebrow. He tilts his head to meet my eyes. I squirm, it makes me feel exposed. “You fangs,” he clarifies. “Your fangs are pretty cool.” I frown, confused. What is he saying? 

“What?” I ask through gritted teeth. 

“They’re cool. I mean, you were trying to use them to rip my throat, but from what I saw. They were pretty cool.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile that creeps up onto my face. “Thanks for your observation, Snow,” I tell him. I mean for it to come out cold and blunt, but my tone’s too warm. 

“Is it hard?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “Being a vampire.”

I grit my teeth. He doesn’t sound remotely surprised that I’ve just admitted to being a vampire, a monster. I guess he’s been waiting eight years for my confession. “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I can’t really remember what it’s like to not be... _this_.” I scratch the back of my neck, awkward.

Snow gives a soft sort of ‘oh’ sound as he pushes up onto his elbows. “I don’t think you’re a monster,” he says. “I mean, you’re a wanker. A complete tosser. But you’re not a monster.”

“I might not be a monster, but I’m definetly not alive,” I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I bring my knees up to my chest.

Snow’s brows furrow. “That’s not true,” he says, frowning. “You’re alive. You’ve made it this far. Nothing’s killed you yet...” he trails off, silent for a second before he continues. “That’s got to mean you’re alive.”

“Surviving isn’t the same thing as living,” I say. He doesn’t have anything to say to that. Neither do I. We both sit in silence, before we both drift off to sleep. My night is plagued with nightmares.

I dream of the Humdrum taking control of me again. I dream of the Humdrum forcing me to murder Snow, making me watch my own hands and fangs kill him. The the Humdrum lets go off me and I cry over his dead body, clutching onto his chest. Then I dream of Snow killing me. And in all honesty, if Snow killing me is the price of him surviving this. Then I’m more than willing to pay it.


	5. Fine-tooth Comb Nicodemus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've been eating those Aeros under your bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's really super late and I'm so sorry. I've been prepping for my Nat 5's and I've been really stressed out lately but I'm back. So is Baz and Simon. X

SIMON

It isn't hard to avoid Baz. A, we're the only two students here and B, Baz won't come out of our room. Not that I've asked him why. I just get up in the mornings, watch Baz pretend to sleep then leave; slamming the door and rolling my eyes. It's been borderline unbearable for two days.

Two days of awkwardly manoeuvring around Baz - the fucking vampire. Two days of sitting in the library and scourging for any mention of vampires - because I'm living with one now, I should at least be prepared. Two days of slowly eating the Freddos and Aeros I've hidden under my bed on the rare chance Baz's in the bathroom. Two days of a living hell. Well, at least I'm halfway through. Penny and Agatha will be back in two days. Maybe I should stop waiting for Agatha though. We've broken up; she's in love with baz; and I'm pretty sure she's pissed at me.

I'm sitting in the dining hall, stabbing the toast that's been set on my plate. I can't bring myself eat any of it - well, I had a couple cherry scones, but they don't count. I don't think Cook Pritchard is here, but two plates of food, every meal, are always set on the last table anyway. One for me and one for Baz. Not that he's eaten anything. I frown as I let the fork I was holding clatter onto the plate. Maybe Baz has anorexia or something - one of the girls at one of my old houses had that. Or maybe vampires just don't need to eat. Maybe he'll get really hungry and I'll wake up one night to find him sucking my blood.

But even as I think that, a tendril of doubt unfurls in my gut. I don't think Baz would kill me. The incident two days ago being an exception. I sigh as my eyes slide to Baz's plate. I still want to help him, only because I know what it's like to not have a mum. And Baz had to watch his die. That's not fair.

Even for a wanker like him.

I slide off the bench and pick up Baz's plate, even though its really hot. I walk out of the empty dining hall, my feet the only sound. I slam all the doubt from my head as I walk up to our room - almost dropping the plate a couple times. I'm not going to grovel. I'm not going to apologise, so that better not be what Baz is holding out for. But...I don't know...everything just feels strange. I mean, everything always feels tense and full of hate, but right now...it's super fucking weird. Even though its all completely Baz's fault, I still feel a little, tiny bit guilty.

I walk up the stairs, Baz's plate hot in my hand. I frown when I look down at it - the milk has toppled into the porridge and the raspberries look like they're bleeding. The toast on the side of the plate has littered crumbs all up the stairs and the jam is all over the plate. It kinda looks like shit.

When I reach the door I hesitate, debating whether to knock, when I remember no matter how hard Baz tries to forget it, it is also my room. I shoulder open the door, fully prepared for another screaming match, but as the door shuts behind me, I freeze. 

Baz is sitting on his bed, faced away from me, on his phone (him and Penny are the only people who can get away with having phones at Watford, because they both have scary parents) and of course Baz has the newest iPhone, Crowley. He's got earphones in and he's lightly bobbing his head as he flips through a book.

Then I realise that he's not in his stupid, posh pyjamas (the red tartan satin ones that he's been living in for the past two days) but in his school trousers. As in _only_ his school trousers. My throat bobs and suddenly I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I settle with just standing there until Baz finally realises I'm here and takes his earphones out (there those expensive bluetooth ones, the dick).

He arches his eyebrow and tries to sneer but his heart's not really in it (does he have a heart? I should check that) so it comes out as a kind of sad frown. "What do you want, Snow?" he asks as his eyes fall to the plate and his brow furrow. "What is that?" He cocks his head before he looks back up at me.

I shrug as my brain tries to comprehend what to say. "I brought you some...uh, some food. You haven't eaten, I mean, I don't think you've ate in two days." I awkwardly place the plate down next to him before I shuffle back. 

"I've ate," he shrugs, looking at the plate but not touching it. He flicks the spoon that's in the porridge bowl. It's probably cold by now anyway.

"You have?" I ask, scratching the back of my neck. I swear he hasn't left the room in two days. So how has he-

"I've been eating those Aeros under your bed," Baz says, leaning against the wall and folding his arms, a smirk on his face

"You've been _what_?" I exclaim as I bend down and check under my bed. "You dick!"

"Relax, Snow," Baz rolls his eyes as I look at him as I lean on my own bed. "I've not touched your chavvy food." I frown but deep down I guess this counts an improvement? I mean even though its at my (and my food's) expense, he's joking. He's laughing - even if it's in his own weird way. 

"You don't like Aeros?" I ask in disbelief. Even Agatha likes Aeros. And Agatha doesn't even like chocolate.

"Of course I like them," Baz snorts. "Doesn't mean they're not chavvy."

"You're just saying that cause you and your family shops in _Waitrose_ ," I say as I duck back down and pull out two Aeros from under my bed. I go to slam one at Baz's head but he catches it and looks down at it before he arches an eyebrow at me.

"That's the only one you're getting so you can fuck off," I tell him as I jump up and make towards the door. "Leave my chocolate alone." Maybe I should get a safe or something. Isn't that what kids in posh private schools do? Lock up their chocolate? I don't know, that's what they did in Mallory Towers (which I only read because they were the only books in the home I was in when I was seven).

"Where are you going?" I turn around at Baz's voice and frown slightly. He's still on his bed, and he's still shirtless (I never realised how fucking pale he is) and now he's watching me warily.

"The library," I reply, cocking my head. " _Why_?" He hesitates for a moment, poking his thumb into his knee before he pushes himself up off of the bed. "Gimme a minute," he says, as if that's a reasonable explanation.

"What, why?" I ask. He looks at me like I'm an idiot for a second before he rolls his eyes. 

"Because I'm coming with you." I shrug, praying that he doesn't notice my throat bob. He raises an eyebrow at me before he speaks. "The truce is still on, right? You're still going to help me. Right?"

" _Of course_ ," I say, folding my arms, actually offended that he thought I wouldn't stay true to my word. He can't see my offended face because he's turned away from me as he pulls his socks on.

I mean, I _was_ debating stoping... _this_ , but _he_ doesn't know that. He just assumed I was gonna be a dick. But my frown vanishes when I look at Baz and realise he's smiling. Not sneering or smirking or grinning ferally. He's just smiling at me. A genuine, real fucking smile.

So I smile back, not a full smile (those are reserved for Penny) but it's still a smile. 

But when he notices my smile, his instantly vanishes. "Never doubted you for a moment, Snow," Baz says sardonically as he slips his hands into his front pockets. I don't know how, but Baz can make even pockets look cool. It's annoying.

"Okay, yeah, that's great, I mean-" I stutter, not really knowing what to say. Not really knowing what just happened.

"Stop blabbering, Snow," Baz sighs before he pulls a jumper on. I forgot he wasn't wearing a shirt and as I remember it I feel my face getting red. But I instantly frown as Baz walks past me, slapping my shoulder. "C'mon Snow."

BAZ

He brought me food. He smiled at me. 

Maybe the humdrum did kill me and this is what heaven's like. I'm not complaining.

We walk down to the library mostly in silence, until Snow pipes up. "What were you listening to?" he asks, looking up at me. 

"What?" I have no idea what he's talking about.

"You were listening to something on your phone," he explains, smiling one of those stupid, side smirks that make my toes curl. I face away fro him, only because Snow might actually kill me if he smiles at me one more fucking time. Crowley, I can't take this. 

" _Ed Sheeran_ ," I say coldly, but Snow doesn't quite catch the sarcasm. 

"Really?" he says in disbelief, "Agatha likes him. Penny hates him." I resist the urge to scoff. I don't think Snow can function without those two. Can't even make his own decisions about _music_. I don't even correct him, or point out that I was joking. I don't want to risk those fucking smiles.

"Are we gonna...um...talk about... _it_?" he asks tentatively as we push open the doors and start to walk across the courtyard. 

"Do you want to?" I ask him, there's no point in pretending anymore. I turn to face him when he doesn't answer. He's biting his lip and Crowley if that isn't the most attractive thing I've ever fucking seen. "Do _you_ want to?" he asks, looking up at me as he rakes his fingers through his bronze hair. 

I shrug. "I don't really know." There's a pause as Snow let's me decide if I want to elaborate. "I don't think so, no."

"Then we won't talk about it," he says, nodding his head. He looks forward, so I let myself watch him for a moment. And just because he isn't looking, I let myself smile again.

When we reach the library, I follow Snow to a table at the very back. This must be where he's been camping out. It's laden with Aero wrappers, orange peels and it's surrounded in books. So many books. He's picked out books about magic history, Watford and my heart picks up when I see one about vampires. Snow catches me frowning and shuffles the book under a pile of ones about the history of the coven. It's a nice attempt at sparing my feelings. Even if it doesn't work.

I pull out my wand from my back pocket and turn towards the shelves. " _ **Fine-tooth Comb Nicodemus!**_ " I say, but nothing happens. I sigh and push my tongue into my cheek. Well fuck.

"I've tried that already," Snow feels the need to input from behind me. I put my wand back in my pocket as I stride towards the shelves and run my fingers over the old spines. "Guess we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way then," I say as I turn back to Snow and roll back my shoulders. He just smiles back at me.

Maybe he thinks this is a thing now. _Smiling_.

It's going to be a long fucking night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading, please leave a comment or kudos if you're enjoying it


	6. PSA

Hey guys, so...

First off, I want to continue this, desperately. However, I have my National 5 exams and my prelims coming up soon and they're really important, so...I'm putting Undeniable on hold for a tiny bit.

I'm gonna try and write the whole thing and start updating regularly and I'm so sorry I haven't been updating regularly. I want my chapters to be longer, and my writing to be better because I know it can be. But it might take a couple of weeks.

Thank you so much for the kudos and the lovely comments and for reading. I will update this. I will _definitely_ update this. You have my word. 

So, if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out, make sure to subscribe. 

Thank you guys so much xx


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